Inseperable Bonds: The Feral and the Brewer
by AmorphousExplorer
Summary: A young and eager sandshrew gets a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to leave his father's brewery and become an explorer, but finds more than he bargained for in his team of outcasts and criminals. Immediately at odds, it takes the wit of the wild to bring them all together and against the brewing trouble in Novo and beyond.
1. Prologue: the Feral Quilava

**Prologue: The Feral**

* * *

The mienshao crouched low to the ground and breathed in slow, steady pants, and tried to shake off his exhaustion. He moved around the moldy table in the center of the room. After chase upon chase and countless scuffles, he finally had the damned thing trapped. "Okay," he said, "let's take it easy this time. Nowhere to run, now." Caught in the shadows of the coming evening, the dark form writhed and tried to push itself through the back wall of the abandoned shack.

"Yes," the quilava agreed, "you've cornered me. Stop cornering me, or I'll become violent again. I promise." To prove it, he stooped low and bared his teeth. The Mienshao respected its honesty and stayed back - the last time he underestimated the calm feral, it left a gash in his side with his sharp teeth. The wound still burned under its bandages. "Leave me alone. I'm sorry about your side, but I don't like it when you're near me. Please stop following me."

"Fascinating." Calip gasped and jumped back, completely unaware that there was a third guest in the abandoned house. "See how well he controls himself."

The chatot ruffled his feathers and stepped closer, causing the quilava to become even more defensive. "Adminstrator!" Calip exclaimed. "You're going to crowd it."

The quilava's eyes widened. The administrator had allowed himself to lag behind in this hunt, and this was the first time the feral realized that it was outnumbered. A long, keening cry came from its chest as it turned and clawed at the walls. Instincts demanded Calip to back away and stay by the door, in case he tried to burn his way out.

Calip soon found himself covering his ears desperately. He felt suddenly sick. "W-what is that _noise? _Administrator Berceuse, that can't be natural. What do we do?" It was such a sad cry, unlike anything he ever heard before in a dungeon. He heard intimidating shouts, angry roars and excited barks from within the mysterious walls of a dungeon, but never anything like this.

But Berceuse seemed completely unaffected, except for the fresh excitement that caused his feathers to shake. "He's a young feral, Calip!" He said triumphantly. "He couldn't be older than thirteen, or evolved for longer than a month. This must be him calling for help - what a depressing growl this is..."

Calip turned to face him. "Well?! Is he close enough to get it?" The mienshao cringed and covered his ears again as the crying began again with new strength. _Let its help come,_ he pleaded, _just make it be quiet. _

Thankfully, however, the quilava decided to stop. "No, I'm not close enough," he admitted. "I'm scared. Please don't hurt me."

Berceuse nodded to his student. "We won't, I promise. Calip, capture him."

In his mind, all Calip could hear or see was the poor feral growling and scratching the walls. It was as if all his ambition to chase and capture this unique creature disappeared. The inhibition halted him so much, he could hardly even look at the quilava. "I c-can't. My body isn't responding. Administrator, h-help me." Calip wasn't a fighter. He was a dancer, and he hated a losing battle even more than a winning one.

"Ah. Don't be embarrassed, Calip. This kind of growl would have that effect on you. Luckily, I've spent far too much time near whining children." Berceuse chuckled and nudged the stunned mienshao aside. "This will be enlightening, to see how a sentient feral fights."

"Administrator, please, you're far too old!"

Berceuse whipped his head back, an incredulous look on his face. He tried to say something, but the quilava interrupted him with an innocent cough and an ear-scratch. "He's right. I'll tear you apart."

"So even the feral youth nowadays show no respect!" The chatot jumped forward and slammed his wing into the moldy table, sending it flying into the shack's fireplace. Calip bent his arm up quickly to shield himself from any splinters and the feral cried out in surprise. "I'm not as quick as before, but I definitely have some experience on my side."

"I'm sorry," the feral snarled, "but I don't like being cornered! Forgive me!" Pushed by his hind legs, the quilava shot forward with a burst of speed, claws ready to gore the bird.

Berceuse cracked his talons into the ground, splitting the wood floor. He jumped forward and expertly used the feral's speed against him, twisting and slamming him down into the splintered wood. The creature screamed as its back scraped against the sharp shrapnel. With a strong flap of his wings, the chatot continued his enemy's tumble and sent him hurtling into the door. The quilava shuddered and tried to hide under the pile of debris his rolling body left.

Although he always owed a lot of respect to the adminstrator, this recent display made Calip swell with fresh admiration. "That was amazing! I can't believe I doubted you."

"To tell the truth I can't believe it- eh?" A tuft of flames erupted from the under the aftermath of their short fight, and the quilava disappeared._  
_

_Did he seriously get away again? Damn it, I have recitals to attend!_ Calip tried to groan loudly, but Berceuse leaped back and covered his mouth with a sturdy wing.

"Quiet - he hasn't left. Listen, don't hear, your surroundings," the adminstrator said. Calip was unsure of whether or not the advice was intended for him. The bird looked very much alive and pleased, and the mienshao couldn't help smiling. "A creak, a breath, anything... take that dumb smile off of your face." Calip blinked; that was definitely meant for him.

Without warning, Berceuse laid Calip flat with his wing and stood in front of him protectively. "I've got you, feral," he called out to the ceiling. "I recommend closing your eyes." How he planned to get to the feral with a roof between them escaped the mienshao. "Pay close attention, Calip, the pokémon I learned this from is a great friend of mine, who also deserve your respect whenever you may meet him." The administrator breathed in with a hoarse gasp until his chest seemed fit to burst. From outside, the desperate scuttling of a shocked creature scratched the top of the roof.

It was far too late to get away. The chatot released his voice in a devastating roar.

"_Yoom-tah!" _

And with those words, the ceiling was gone. From his position on the floor, all he could see were the falling brown specks and a flailing quilava. Behind the ringing in the ears he could just make out the bloodcurdling cry from before. A thud outside marked the end of their business with the feral. "That's that," Berceuse declared proudly. He ruffled his feathers and stood tall, and finally allowed Calip to stand up.

They walked outside to find the shaking quilava. Splinters stuck out from his face like whiskers. At the sight of the old bird, he cried in fear and curled into a small ball.

"Now there's the respect I deserve." Berceuse laughed and knelt down near the incapacitated feral. "Be calm now, the painful part is over. There wouldn't be a need for such violence if you had only listened to me. Their quarry only coughed and sputtered. "Oh, Arceus, I hope you didn't swallow any pieces of wood."

Calip scratched his head, confused. "Why does it matter? He's an anomaly; explorer guild rules say that we need to 'take note and then exterminate' strange and dangerous pokémon."

"He's hardly dangerous," the administrator replied, "and compared to any other pokémon, he's not too strange. Just a little misled, like most criminals. In fact...with the lot that's coming here in the Springtime, I thing that he would fit right in."

Every word Calip tried to get out of his mouth became jumbled by his disbelief. "Wait, are you saying - are you trying to tell me that you want to..." Calip's long sleeves flapped around his arms as he threw them up. "Administrator Berceuse, I don't think you can train a feral to be an explorer!"

The wry chatot only grinned. "Quilava, how well do you follow orders?"

In a display of great sturdiness, the feral wobbled back onto his feet. "I closed my eyes when you told me to. I am in pain. Please help me."

"Ha! There you have it." Calip gaped at his administrator and held his paws out pleadingly. This was far too crazy, even for the eccentric chatot. "You'll be coming with us, back to our home. I will take care of you, there, if you listen to me and behave appropriately.

The emergence of a sentient feral was strange enough, and now Berceuse was trying to be its father. "Administrator, I have to say that this is a really stupid-"

"From now on," the chatot declared with a grin, "this mienshao shall be your brother. He will be the one that comes when you cry for help."

"I have a dance to prepare for... I _cannot_ be some feral's brother right now! This is insane- we need to consider our options, o-or... what is he doing? Help!" Calip tried to back away slowly from the approaching quilava, but stopped when he saw his lonely eyes. The feral came close and licked the spots around his bandages.

The quilava looked up at him. "Brother, you're hurt, and it's my fault. It won't happen again, though, I promise. I will help my new pack."

"T-that fast, huh?" The innocent red eyes of the injured pokémon caught him once again._ It wouldn't be... that bad,_ he considered, _to have him tag along. Besides, he could help me with my performance._ It was certainly a way to make up for the unsightly wound the quilava gave him.

Calip gritted his teeth and clenched his paws. "Fine! I'll watch the damned thing. Happy?" But the chatot was already gone, walking back into the village. Sometimes Calip couldn't decide if following Berceuse out to his new school in this remote village was a blessing or a curse. He crossed his arms behind his head and inspected the sad sight in front of him. Not only was he littered with tiny brown pieces of wood, but his fur was disgustingly mangled and dirty. He sighed.

"Okay, bro. let's get you cleaned up."


	2. Chapter 1: Sobrewright the Brewer

**The Feral and the Brewer**

**Chapter One: Sobrewright the Brewer**

* * *

Sobrewright studied his younger sister as she went about the equipment. Even on a chilly day like this their small burrow was hot and stuffy, and he usually welcomed this. But now, at the close of Sprout's tour of the brewery, he couldn't shake the heated sickness that grew on him every second.

Everything the musty scent of dust and ale touched in the burrow was his family's business - he had inherited it from his father. And his father had it passed down to him from his father, who likely lived as the meteors fell. Only the ale tasted as rich as their history, and Sobrewright felt that he gave away both far too soon. He questioned himself so harshly his head began to swelter with doubt. _Is__ four years really all I can do__? _Sobrewright pondered questions like this through his clutched head. W_ould Keg be disappointed? Is Sprout even ready to take over?_

These thoughts disappeared the moment he saw Sprout raise a full flask up to her mouth. The indignant sandshrew ripped the flask from her claws, dipped a claw into it and sniffed. It smelt fine, so he slammed it down on the counter behind him and proceeded to reprimand his sister.

"What in the world was that?" Sprout cringed and wrapped her claws together. After proving herself able in every other test, the way she ignored his cardinal rule only worsened his mood. The longer she stayed silent, the more furious he became, until he felt nearly ignited with anger. "Well, sister?"

"I'm not as experienced as you," she pleaded, "I have to t-taste-test it or else I might mess up-"

"Then a few pokémon get a little sick, or puke, or whatever else until you _are_ experienced. We never test by taste! Never! It's bad news."

"But dad used to do it by taste..."

Sobrewright gaped at her, honestly appalled that she would say something like that just to avoid admitting her mistake. "Yes he did," he muttered, "and look at where that got him." The fiery emotion he had before drifted away and cold exhaustion replaced it. He hopped up onto the counter and covered his head with his claws.

Sprout learned many things from her time living with only her older brother - things she learned from rigorous practice. She knew how to speak with customers, how to brew in Sobrewright's style, and how to provide for herself. But, most important of all the lessons, the axew knew how to deal with the sandshrew himself. And bringing up Keg was a bigger mistake in his eyes than taste-testing the brew. To him, their dad was not a good role model.

Taking little steps, Sprout approached her brother and patted his stubby legs. "I'm really sorry, brother. When you yell at me like that, I want to excuse myself, and I say things without thinking too much." He nodded blandly, not bothering to turn and look at her. "How about I go through it all again?" She suggested. "We have time."

He pulled his legs up and laid himself down on the counter, staring at the dark brown roof of their burrow. "Whatever." A yellow arm flung out and waved her away. "Actually, let's not - you passed. Congratulations."

Little tears stung the axew's eyes; she wanted this to be a proud moment for Sobrewright and for her, something they could enjoy together. Opportunities to impress her brother were few and far between, and losing one felt crushing.

Trying to work around the sandshrew on top of the counter and stifle some sobbing, Sprout cleaned up. Their burrow, considering the brewing equipment reserved over half of its space, took a fair amount of effort to clean. Sprout put away their flasks into the proper shelf, and used a tiny brush to mark the full flask with a large three.

When the task was done, they both waited in silence. "I cleaned up exactly like you want it done, brother," she said after a while.

"Does it matter what I want? It's your brewery now. Throw the flasks into the food cauldrons and stack the kegs in front of the door for all I care."

Sprout took in a little gasp, trying to keep calm. Utterly lost on what to do, she finally ducked her head and turned away. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind." And with that out of the way, there was only one thing left to say. "happy birthday, by the way."

But at that, Sobrewright turned to her curiously. "Happy what day?" He asked suspiciously. Sprout almost thought that her brother was joking, but he continued to stare at her. Did he really forget his own birthday? Sprout slowly repeated herself, but couldn't hide her confusion.

"I said, 'happy birthday'. Today is the first day of Spring, remember? You're ten today, so we're going out to the common meadow tonight, and Sally the Miltank baked a cake especially for you, to eat at the Spring Celebration."

Sobrewright flung himself from the counter in sudden panic. "My birthday, no... that can't be right... I leave for Garry's Tower in a day and I haven't prepared at all!"

Except he had - in great detail and with many rechecks. To make things worse, he even stumbled over his neat bags as he paced about their home and still failed to remember. "Brother, you're completely packed already. Are you feeling okay?"

"No, I'm not," he snapped. Forgetting something this big made him frustrated. "Because I'm giving away our business to someone who obviously can't listen."

Even so he became more aggressive by the moment, Sprout managed to relax herself. _He's not okay, s_he quietly hoped, _there is something bothering him. _All he needed was some fresh air and he'd be in his right mind again.

Thankfully, that seemed to be his plan as well. "Let's go into the village. I have some errands to run." He went over to the door and unhooked a small leather satchel from the wall.

It sounded like a great plan compared to sitting in the burrow and being berated, so Sprout nodded excitedly. "But wait!" She suddenly exclaimed. It turned out that she too was forgetting something, washed away by the day's horrible start. "I... I have my own gift for you, and I'd like to give it to you before we leave."

"Is it small?" Sobrewright asked curtly.

"...What?" She didn't fully understand why that mattered, but it eventually hit her. She stooped down sadly. "Yes..."

"Then give it to me while we're walking. I don't want to waste time."

* * *

The village outside of Garry's Tower didn't have a name of its own. A long time ago, the founders decided that they would name it after the large relic resting on the hill a mile outside of its limits. It was far too commanding of a structure to ignore, and visitors were more likely to remember its decaying splendor than the sleepy pokémon in the village.

The large decrepit tower watched over the villagers preparing for the Spring Celebration. Its dark nature usually haunted those working in the fields or playing in the meadow, but today it held no power over the jubilant pokémon setting up decorations. The Spring Celebration marked an important time for the village. The ferals emerged from their dungeons less often in Spring than Winter, and it so marked the first day of bountiful gathering.

Sobrewright and his sister headed in the opposite direction, towards the clump of makeshift homes and the border between their village and the nearby Proxima Forest. They walked quietly, pretending to be content with the shining grass and approaching springtime. When, really, either one had enough reason to be upset with the other, although they weren't yet willing to express it.

More than anything, Sprout knew that her gift would shock the mood sandshrew right out of his slump. He tried very hard to not seem interested. Every time Sprout looked from her gift wrapped in cloth to her older brother, however, he became slightly more impatient. Finally, after the tenth or eleventh glance, Sobrewright had grown far too curious to let it pass.

"Okay, fine," he declared. He dug his toe-claws into the ground and grabbed onto one of his sister's horns, stopping them both in their tracks. "Alright, Let's see what you have. Give it to me."

The axew sighed and held it up to him reluctantly. "O-okay. It's special to me though... so if you don't like it, can you maybe... possibly... keep that to yourself?"

"Disappointment is a large part of owning a brewery," he muttered as he took the gift and unwrapped it.

They may own a business, but they were by no means rich. On the contrary, Sobrewright almost always struggled to get everything they needed from the traveling merchants that came by every few months. When the gift he unwrapped turned out to be a shining blue pendant, glittering with an extravagance he had only read about, he consequently became very irrational. The first thing out of Sobrewright's mouth, although he was very impressed, was: "did you steal this?"

Enough was enough. Sprout smacked his leg and tore the pendant out of his claws. Her tiny claws nearly got stuck in his yellow hide. "What is wrong with you?" She shouted. "No, I didn't steal it! Why are you being so mean to me? This isn't constructive or playful o-or just you being y-you... this is really cruel." Sobrewright looked around instinctively before turning his attention to Sprout, who was now in the throes of a fierce tantrum.

Luckily all the pokémon who would normally be out to witness this were busy with the celebration. Even so, he didn't like to hear his younger sister cry, and immediately went to her side. "It's an honest question, sister. I'm not trying to upset you."

"I've never stolen anything before, yet you just straight out accuse me of being a thief, a-and you think I won't be upset?" She wiped her eyes and patted the dust from the trail off of herself and stood up. "A few drops of ale and I'm just a drunk de... deli..."

"Delinquent?" Sobrewright proposed.

"Y-yes! If a few drops makes me a jewel thief at large to you, what does that make Aiden, or Garrett?"

He shook his head. "It's not the same between you and them. They're much older."

"Oh!" She shouted angrily. "So they're too old to be criminals? I'm pretty sure that most killers are older than me. I know for certain that the Time Thief isn't a six year old trying to run your stupid brewery!"

It was unprecedented for Sprout to say such a thing. Sobrewright growled at her threateningly - something he almost never resorted to, a last resort for them both. "The brewery is not stupid. It's our keepsake, our lifeline. You'd do well to appreciate it." The moment he realized what he had said, he bit his tongue. For a rational moment, he recognized that he had absolutely no right to say such a thing.

"Then why are you going to Garry's Tower to learn how to explore? Family tradition?"

Caught out, Sobrewright kept his eyes to the ground and ran his claws against the tiny holes in his hide. "You know it's not like that, sister." It wasn't his fault he had to leave.

Keg always saw him as the next coming of ale brewing to Novo. "Pal," his father used to tell him, "you've gotta expand, let me tell you. No more burrows and small business in the boondocks, eh? You've gotta set you eyes on making your dad proud!"

Sobrewright would, without a doubt, love to please his father. But every child is born with two parents.

Sprout wiped her eyes and held out the pendant again. "Just... just take a look at it, please. It's instilled."

Not only extravagant but powerful, according to his sister. "_Instilled?_" He exclaimed, very dubious of the claim. "Who did you buy this from, Sprout? I'm fairly sure they lied." The chances that something instilled with potent energy coming out to a place like Garry's Tower was slim. "No pokémon within our village or close to us would even have a chance of learning how to use the Current." He ran the beads that held the pendant through his claws, trying to test a power he had no clue how to even see.

"Firstly, I didn't buy it. That guild painter from Pokémon Town gave it to me for free." Sobrewright had been too busy packing to see the smeargle come into town, but knew that his task of painting the new administrator of Garry's Tower was official business. How Sprout got him to take time out of his schedule to chat was beyond him. "Secondly, it really is instilled. He said it's imprinted with a vision of Whiscash Lake, from Pokémon Town." Every time he blinked a wisp of a stray thought entered his mind, and he had no doubt now. "All you have to do is close your eyes and focus. It must be amazing."

Unsure of what came next, Sobrewright closed his eyes lightly and clenched the drusy pendant. For a split second, he thought it hadn't worked at all. But his stomach lurched when it became clear that it had worked too well. He tried to step back from the pearly white edge of a high tower, overlooking what could only be Whiscash lake. The sickening feeling of being in such a place nearly suffocated him, and he found himself stuck in a trance, gasping and trying to reach out to the sapphire water and distant greenery.

"Brother! Sobrewright! You're hurting yourself!" And as quick as he arrived to the grandest town in all of Novo, overlooking its greatest lake, he was back.

Smiling blankly, he pressed it into his sister's hands. "Y-you have to try it, sister, it was the most-"

"Brother, your chest - it's bleeding!"

Entranced by the power of the instilled pendant, he must have pressed it too deeply into his soft underside. Thin lines of red went down from his chest to the dirt under his feet. The prickly blue surface had done a number on him, which sent the young axew into a nervous panic. "Okay," he cooed, "don't cry, I'm okay. I'm right here." He expertly ducked under the horns on her face and hugged her tightly. Once she quieted down, he pulled open his satchel, removed a rag from one of the inner pockets and cleaned himself up.

It was as if his stress hadn't managed to balance atop that marble tower and fell away. "I'm so sorry," he told Sprout. "I really am. If I had known that your gift was this special, I wouldn't have acted so careless."

"Why does it matter how special it is? I just want you to know that I love you. You've been so angry this week..."

Sobrewright's chest hurt inside and out now, with the added guilt pressing down on him. "Wow, no, you're right. Oh, Sprout!" _What have I been doing the past week? _Sobrewright brought her in close. _What is wrong with me? _

_"_Sister, it isn't you fault, I promise. I've... I've been having nightmares."

"We've always had nightmares, Sobrewright. You were the one who taught me how to deal with them. Remember when you took me up to the ocean, to 'conquer my fears'?"

"No, these are different. Last night... I had a dream that something threw me..." he knew she was mature enough to handle what came next, but he instinctively tried to soften it up. "I hit my head on a rock and..."

"Died?" The way she said the word made it seem like a curse. He nodded. "Brother, I don't think it's strange for us to dream about crashing into rocks."

"Right. But it felt like I actually died. I woke up and felt buried. It was hot and suffocating and that's why I was so angry." That was definitely what the morning had felt like. But, he couldn't bear to put anymore of it on his sister. "You know what? Damn whatever business I was on, and this conversation too. Let's help prepare for the Spring Celebration!"

The axew's eyes lit up, the morning somehow forgotten or at least shoved away. "R-really? You said we'd be too busy today."

He smiled and patted her head. "Nope. Come on, we'll get my chest bandaged and make our way to Sally's bakery. We'll borrow one of her ovens," he added slyly. That riled Sprout up considerably.

Dust clouds popped up as she jumped up and down excitedly. "Does that mean you'll bake some pies?"

His chest had stopped bleeding, so he took the pendant and put it around his neck. Giving her a wry grin he nodded. "But," he added, "you have to carry the apples. As many as you carry - that's how many I'll bake."

"What?!"

"Think of it as practice for hauling the ale to market." He turned around and walked ahead a few steps, but stopped and looked back. "Oh, and sister?"

She looked up at him hopefully. "Y-yes?"

"I'm really proud of you."

Tears welled up in the young axew's eyes, and Sobrewright knew that hearing that made her day much more than a pie ever could. She gave him a hasty hug and sprinted away to the burrow. "Come on, brother! Let's not waste time, because you're going to have to bake a thousand pies by tonight - I'll be as strong as Entei!"

With the motivation of pie, Sobrewright was sure he'd now be spending his entire day listening to Sally's gossip. He laughed and watched as his sister became a green speck, which flung open the door to their burrow and jumped inside gleefully.

And then the smile went away and he looked down at the cut on his chest, and at the pendant. _If I can believe that what's inside the pendant is really Pokémon Town, then wouldn't I have to believe my dreams? _To him, the two visions seemed so similar in feeling. He frowned and shambled slowly towards the burrow. He simply couldn't find another explanation for the anxiety eating away at him, so even the impossible seemed so near to reason. So for the first time at the age of ten, on the cusp of becoming an apprentice explorer, he had a mystery to unravel:

_Am I already dead?_ _  
_

* * *

**And that concludes the first part of chapter one. I'm posting this with a lot of doubt on whether or not the reader will find it interesting, but if you do find it worth your while make sure to let me know (or, if the other case proves true, please inform me that this is boring). **


	3. Chapter 2: The Spring Celebration

**Chapter 2: The Spring Celebration**

* * *

After a much calmer walk to Sally's bakery, Sobrewright's dreadful morning seemed to have fallen behind the bright background of the countryside. He watched his sister, who tried to point out the small red home and its escaping plumes of smoke and ended up dropping her armful of apples. The shiny red fruits rolled all across the trail, out of the diving axew's short reach. Some went left while others went right, and some even went under Sprout's feet and threw her down into the ground.

He gasped as if Sprout had dropped an armful of eggs. "Uh oh. We can't use them, now!"

"No, brother, they're still okay!" She pleaded as she scooped them back up one by one. "F-five second rule, remember?"

The truth was that it didn't really matter if she dirtied the outside of the apples, since he washed them anyway. But Sprout didn't need to know that; Sobrewright kept his face straight and impatiently tapped his foot. "One..." the single number threw her into a bigger tizzy than before. He smiled with great satisfaction at his handiwork.

And then he became somber. What was the difference between this and the bullying he was doing this morning? With the dream lingering in his mind at all times, he felt so pressured to make sure that Sprout enjoyed his company. _At any minute,_ Sobrewright thought, _I could trip and gore myself on a rock. _

He helped her pick up the remaining apples, congratulated her on saving them all and continued on towards Sally's bakery.

* * *

The sparkly red paint layered over the simple stone house marked the home of Sally the miltank and her two twins, Garrett and Aiden. A small chimney on the roof spat out tufts of smokes at a rate faster than any other time in the year, in anticipation of the Spring Celebration. With two gatherers as her children, Sally felt very pressured to bless them both good luck and safety on their expeditions out towards Proxima Forest.

When Sobrewright approached the door to knock, he heard the usual sound that accompanied the smokey, sweet flavor of the bakery: ceaseless bickering.

"I swear, Aiden, you're a straight idiot sometimes. You stick to the straight-and-narrow, I'll give you that, but you're sticking to being an idiot - oh, and y'know what's different about us, huh?"

The insulted twin only sighed. Sprout nudged him and giggled. "If I had a poké for every time I heard that sigh," she said. Sobrewright rolled his eyes.

"Well, y'know what it is?"

Aiden groaned. "What, precious Garrett, is the difference?"

"When we were born, y'came out a minute later 'cause you had to ask for directions!"

"_Garrett! Kitchen, now!" _A heavy voice broke into the house and shook its foundations.

"But mom, ain't that funny?"

"Only joke's you sitting in the corner. Five minutes."

It was slightly immature, but Sobrewright couldn't help but clench his claws in frustration. The two twins were both sixteen (but Aiden younger by a minute) and gatherers, yet they still sat in the corner like infants. Sobrewright used one of those clenched claws to knock on the door.

Sally stomped out of her kitchen and threw open her door, obviously not in the mood to be lending out her oven. Aiden stood up on his hind legs and shot the two brewers a sympathetic look. It took the sandshrew a moment to catch up, but he finally added up the sympathetic look from Aiden and the furious glare from Sally; he was somehow getting blamed for that earlier remark.

He threw up his arms in confusion. "I just got here - what did I do?"

"You gave him the second batch didn't you, Sobrewright?" Although multiple batches of ale could be made from sessions of brewing, they became decreasingly potent for each batch made. The flasks Sobrewright put the ale in were always marked with a number indicating their batch, and he was fairly sure every one sold to Sally's bakery had a three on it.

Sprout sprung to his defense. "We're sorry, Sally, but we gave him the third batch like you said to."

Aiden sighed and hung his head in defeat. "I was afraid of this," he muttered.

The spurious mother whirled around to face her younger son. "Afraid of _what?!" _

"I think his stupidity is evolving. Ale is like Current but for ill intent, as they say."

"No one says that, Aiden, in front of two very nice young brewers." Aiden opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. "Now go into the corner with your brother. I swear that the both of you behaved better as zigzagoon. It's a real shame the merchants brought those stones by." To everyone in Garry's Tower, anything instilled with the Current was always 'that stone' or 'that scarf'. How they could see those curiosities in such a bland way baffled the sandshrew.

The fact that each instilled object held the pure potential of change startled Sobrewright. A gemstone (like the one around his neck) could possibly hold the power to mend, cleanse, hide, warm, or even allow its holder to evolve themselves. And the fact that pokémon contained this power within their own bodies, that Sobrewright could learn to shake the ground he walked on if someone would only teach him... Sobrewright shook his head and regained his focus, just in time to hear Sprout ask, "what was the argument this time?"

Sally sighed and walked towards the kitchen, gesturing for them to come in. "Well, you know how rough this 'administration' business is for the village. Garrett never liked being told what to do, even by his own mother. Now that chatot comes into our village, settles down in that haunted tower and does just that. It's not good for such a young boy to know that his job's being 'administrated' over."

"But the administrator is from Pokémon Town," Sobrewright argued, "he is from the Explorers Guild - just think how many things he might know about making all of our lives easier."

"And _that_," Garrett called out as he made his way back into the room, "is you being brainwashed. Everyone in our village knows," the linoone prattled on, as if everyone actually knew, "that these singing bird types, 'chatots', are manipulative and quick-witted. As for exploring, exploring has to be the most heathenish thing ever to the Blessed's lifestyle. It's dirty, murderous and most importantly of all, greedy." Sobrewright felt himself heating up, ready to argue the rest of the day away just to make Garrett take back what he said.

The miltank quickly grabbed her son and put him in a very nicely-done headlock. "I'm so sorry, Sobrewright, I hadn't told him yet that you're planning on becoming an explorer soon. He doesn't mean to make you regret that choice or-"

"_You're what?!"_ Garrett shouted. He broke free and threw himself onto the sandshrew. "I know you sandshrew like the desert, but that doesn't mean you can leave all of Garry's Tower dry! Snap out of the brainwashing, Sobre, come on!" The sandshrew lost track of himself as the desperate linoone throttled him back and forth.

Sprout waved her claw up slowly, unsure of whether or not she wanted to get Garrett's full attention. "I'm taking over," she said, "so please stop mauling my poor brother."

Garrett hopped off of Sobrewright and walked up to Sprout. "Oh, I see." He leaned in close and whispered loudly. "Maybe y'can sneak me a few two's, hm? Maybe a one - but I'm not picky."

Aiden pulled his brother away and stood in between the two. "Hey, Sprout. What brings you... have you been crying?" Sobrewright hadn't considered it, but the obvious streaks cut across her dusty face made it obvious that the two had a bad morning. The linoone scowled and turned to Sobrewright. "You aren't overworking her in your rush to get to that administrator, are you?"

Sobrewright returned the scowl. "No, I'm not. She's completely ready - and are you sure you can help her while I'm away?"

"If she was ready, she wouldn't need my help-"

Sprout interjected with a small whine. "Brother, my arms are getting very sore from holding the apples. Can we start baking the pies, now?"

It did seem like a better idea than a fight, so he nodded. "Uh, may we, Sally?"

"Of course, Sobrewright, but stay in this room for a bit longer - I don't want you seeing your cake!"

Aiden backed off a bit and sighed. "Oh, right. Happy birthday, Sobre."

"Thanks." Sobrewright took some of the apples from his sister and sat down on a nearby mat, waiting silently for the oven.

* * *

"Wow, Garrett, that's so tough-looking!" A furret named Mari swooned over the small silver object in the linoone's paw. "Oh, can you show me that again?"

The pleased gatherer nodded and gripped his knife tightly. Crying out, he jumped up on his hind legs and swung his paws and the knife out in a large arc. Afterwards, he deftly flipped his grip on the knife, placed it in his mouth, and put it in his satchel. "Now," he bragged, "I normally only use it for cutting vines and gathering, but when that one or two... or pack of ferals come along, I have no choice but to fight them back with teeth, fangs, and _blade!_"

Mari and the other girls in the small audience he attracted giggled and clapped as he struck an intimidating pose. _Like he has ever seen a feral,_ Sobrewright fumed from his lonely spot on the large blanket he had laid over the grass, _I'll be seeing tons of them with time, and I'll end up being the one that helps everyone_. _  
_

At the Spring Celebration, everyone from Garry's Tower spread out across the meadow and set up for the largest night picnic of the year. Sprout once asked him why they didn't have the Spring Celebration in the morning and he took this question to Sally, who answered: "why, Sobrewright, we don't want to bother the plants while they're blooming!" As the sun set on Garry's Tower he could still see Sprout on a small blanket with the other children.

He became so drawn into watching Sprout laugh and share apple pie with the other young pokémon that he didn't even notice Aiden lie down next to him. "Doesn't it strike you as a little strange?" He asked suddenly. "Just a little?"

Sobrewright was still mad with both the twins. Although he wouldn't admit it, Garrett had planted the seeds of doubt in his mind. Unlike before, he now felt conflicted about what once appeared so right to him. _What if the administrator is a hoax, and he swindles me or wastes my time? _The accusations that he abused his sister from Aiden only completed what was already a very serious damper over his own Spring Celebration.

"What's strange, Aiden?"

"They all just seem like kids enjoying the celebration, but only Sprout has to look forward to running a brewery tomorrow."

"Is this really why you came over here? To try and make me guilty?"

Aiden shook his head. "No," he admitted. "I'm just saying. I don't know what's in your family's line, Sobrewright, but you all hit the ground running. I could never imagine being a gatherer at six years old..." the gatherer circled around the sandshrew, who had turned away, and locked eyes with him. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that... if anyone can become an explorer, Sobre, it's probably you."

The kind words thawed away Sobrewrights cold shoulder, and he found himself trying to hide a pleased smile. "Thank you, Aiden."

"Don't mention it." Content with how the conversation went, Aiden swooped back around his friend and laid down in his spot. He pressed himself into the blanket in order to combat the chilly air. "If you don't mind me asking, Sobrewright, what makes you want to go out and explore?"

Once the sun fully set, the stars came out, speckling the skies with their mysteries. Unlike many families, Sobrewright's dad never passed down an idea of what the stars were, but he always guessed that they too were instilled with Current. "A lot of things, really, but mostly I hope that I can do some good for everyone in Garry's Tower, and maybe even beyond. I want to see how many people I can help."

"I know that," Aiden said, "you already told me that. I wasn't very clear, so let me try again: _who _makes you want to go out and explore?"

He looked down from the stars at the red blanket underneath him. "My mother."

"Oh." Aiden knew better than to continue on, so he perked up his ears and listened to the faint sound of music, coming from the other side of the meadow. "The dancer who came with the administrator is about to perform. I can't believe my brother hates the chatot who's allowing him to witness a mienshao's dance." The linoone rolled back onto his feet. "Well, I'm not missing it, and I don't think Sprout is, either - I think I can see her going to the front of the crowd."

Sobrewright shook out whatever thoughts he had on his mother and followed Aiden towards where he last saw Sprout. On their way, however, the found a very dejected and rustled Garrett. "Brother!" Aiden cried, shocked by the glumness of his brother's appearance. "You look like there's a meteor falling down on us, what happened?"

Too devastated to blabber about his bothers (a first), Garrett shook his head and kept walking away. "Stupid chatot," he mumbled, "he tricked me again..." he passed by the two without noticing them, back towards the bakery.

He left them both without a clue as to what the trick was, so they had no choice but to let him mope away. Sobrewright tried to offer an explanation. "I'm sure it's just some trouble with Mari," he said. Aiden shrugged and went on his way.

They found Sprout sitting down in the patch of grass right in front of the makeshift stage. The curtains veiled the performance and its theme from their sight, but the sandshrew knew they found the axew just in time for the show. "Hey brother! Isn't this exciting?" The moment her brother sat down, she crawled over and sat on his lap. "I wonder whate the theme could be. The dancer said it'd be a surprise."

"Wait, what? Sprout, how do you manage to talk to all of these pokémon? Isn't he backstage?"

"He came out for a bit, to double-check the safety of the stage." The curtains began to jingle as a stagehand pulled them open. "Oh, quiet brother - it's starting!"

But the moment the curtains laid open and exposed the decorations contained behind it, Sobrewright knew that it meant trouble. Small, blue curves crafted from wood littered the floor of the stage, representing waves. A model of a tiny boat sat in the middle of the wooden ocean. It made a scene that the two were all too familiar with.

What worsened the situation is that everyone in Garry's Tower knew as well, and a shudder of anxiety went out towards the two strays they took in four years ago. With everyone's eyes awaiting his reaction, he kept himself composed and didn't dare move. But Sprout writhed around uncomfortable, and he knew he couldn't keep up the act for long.

Before he could say anything, Sprout had buried her head in the bandage on his chest, crying. "B-brother, I don't like this show. I w-want to go." Sobrewright wanted to go too; all the bitter memories the image brought up for the both of them made him feel sick, like he had been in the morning.

Aiden leaned in close as the mienshao came onto the stage. "It would be hard to leave, since he'll see you," The linoone whispered. " He might be offended by it. If you want, I can take her away. Maybe he won't mind that."

"No," Sobrewright said, "I'll take her." He was just as desperate to make a quick getaway.

"Brother, I want you to do well... it's fine. I can make it through." Sprout readjusted herself and kept a hesitant, squinted eye on the stage. Sobrewright thought to argue with her, but when the mienshao came out, he couldn't speak. Her white fur shone brighter than he thought possible. In comparison, Aiden's back fur took on an almost yellow tint. Every part of her, down to the sleeves, was adorned with decoration and practically flawless.

She caught sight of Sprout's distressed face, and the delicate grin on her face faltered. But a few spins of her silky sleeves made the axew transfixed, and the mienshao once again regained her gracious posture. The sleeves swished over a row of chimes hung off of the bow of the boat, and the meadow resonated with gentle, alluring wings.

"She's beautiful," Aiden breathed. "Perfect."

"She?" Sprout asked. She sounded skeptical of the judgment. "What are you talking about?"

"Well if it wasn't for that bandage on her side, I suppose." And in the next moment, there was no more time for talk; the show began with a booming, commanding voice that came from an instilled headstone on the front of the stage.

_Forests, mountains, caves and rivers. The four food groups for the outward-bound soul. But no one ever seems to speak of the ocean. Why is that? Some speak of charting the unknown waters, and the villages they come from celebrate them for it. And then they are never heard of again. To acknowledge these brave souls, is our tale of a young buizel named Horizon who sought for an answer to the ocean, the largest brother of his element..._

* * *

Once the show had finally come to a close, Sobrewright led his sister out to the outskirts of the meadow, towards the menacing tower always looking over the village.

When he had first arrived in Garry's Tower, carrying Sprout had been so easy. He would parade her about the village and try to get her to treat this place as home. Now he struggled to take her from one side of the meadow to the other. With a great sigh he set her down and sat down next to her. "Sprout, are you okay?"

"I really liked the ending!" Sprout replied. "Who would've thought that Horizon's family lived out at sea? I'm glad that they're together now."

Sobrewright nodded. There would never be enough of a reason to tell her that it was just a story. And deep inside, he also wished that the story held some truth; if the ocean brought together as many families as it broke apart, such as his own, then maybe it would be easier to live with what happened. "I'm glad to know that," he told her.

"It did bring up some bad memories of dad."

"Yes it did."

"And I bet it brought up some memories of mom, right?"

"...Yeah."

Sprout moved up close to him. The cold air crept in with the nighttime and sent shivers down his sister's back - she needed to be in bed, soon, but sleep meant that their last day living together had come to a close.

"Are they... are they happy or sad thoughts, brother?"

He thought about it for a while, and about his own future. Even if the nightmares on his own death continued, something about the foggy grey tower floating in and out of their sight made him confident.

"They're hopeful thoughts, sister. Only hopeful thoughts."

Suddenly, bright lights exploded behind the pair. Sobrewright jumped and covered his sister to protect her from the strange intrusion on the calming night. "Relax, brother, it's only the fireworks! The mienshao prepared them for after the show."

Together, they watched as one volatile orb after another whistled into the air and cracked, sending down streaks of multicolored sparks. The pokémon below them shifted about and followed the sparks around. The younger ones tried to catch them, until Sally's loud voice thankfully told them not to. Even when away from the colors, Sobrewright found them tantalizing. The noise resounded in his head and made his heart race with excitement.

And then he noticed the tiny ember, breaking through the fog near the tower. He watched it flee from the tower and down the other side of the hill, towards the ocean and away from the fireworks. He stood up and kept watching it until, eventually, it was gone.


	4. Chapter 3: To the Tower

**Chapter Three: To the Tower**

Sobrewright watched his arms sway from side to side as they hung over the grand pearly tower. He looked straight down to the ground, which nauseated him and excited him at the same time. Having slept in burrows all of his life, lying down just above the low-flying clouds in the sky made his head whirl. A small gap opened in the sea of fluffy white, and he turned his attention to the lake. He stroked around the jagged rocks at the bottom of the tower and the tiny red krabby sitting on them, trying to get used to the height.

"Are you done yet?" The sandshrew stood up again and backed away from the ledge. He turned to the voice of an elderly smeargle. "You have to be at Garry's Tower in two weeks. You can finish instilling the pendant at your own leisure. There is work to be done."

This was unexpected. Not knowing what to do, he stood there in complete silence. _Is this part of the pendant's power? _Sobrewright wondered. Falling asleep had thrown him into the small window of Pokémon Town, and he didn't know how to get out. Of course, the alluring view and complete silence gave him so much time to think. Or perhaps, not think.

"Have you even prepared a team to escort you? Checked your equipment? I'm sure you at least studied your subject, yes?" The smeargle moved towards him slowly, posture rigid and scrutinizing. Sobrewright backed away from his advance until he found his feet scrabbling at the edge of the tower again.

_It has to be that I'm living that smeargle's life,_ Sobrewright thought in a panic, _all I have to do is what he did. _"Y-yes," he stammered, "I have a team prepared, and my equipment's all ready, a-and I studied my subject."

The smeargle nodded. "His name, please."

"Who?"

Without the space to back up, the stern instructor got right into his face. Feelings of horror and confusion raged in the sandshrew - he could nearly _smell _the smeargle. "Don't be simple, Sobrewright. I want the name of the chatot you shall paint. Even though you have two weeks to learn it, you should know it now. A name forges the pokémon, or at least some pokémon - it definitely isn't the case with you. Also, I heard that he was quite the heathen. Will you be subtly portraying that?"

_He used my name! why would he use my name? _The clouds below cleared, and as the smeargle made him lean back with his crowding, all he could see was himself plummeting down that large gap between white marble and rocky ground. The beautiful view lost all of its allure; he wanted out of the dream. "I don't know! I'm not your s-student, I just fell asleep with this pendant on and- ah!"

The teacher grabbed his arms in a mighty grip. "How disappointing, these excuses. Maybe next time you'll know."

And with that, he pushed the sandshrew over the edge and down into the jagged rocks below.

* * *

Sobrewright woke with a start. He flailed around and tried to catch onto anything nearby in his small burrow. His claws became wrapped around a soft length of rope, and he curled up and held on for dear life. Something or someone shouted in the background, but Sobrewright needed to avoid the rocks at any cost. He ignored his surroundings and focused on surviving the terrible fall.

"Ow! Sobre, for the love of- ow!"

The handhold he grabbed shook about in his claws, trying to writhe out of his clenching claws. Nothing would make him let go - at least, not until a hind leg kicked him right in the head.

Dizzied by the blow, he finally opened his eyes and looked around. Garrett howled in pain and chased his tail, trying to grab a hold of where the pain came from. Aiden tried desperately to get his brother to calm down. "You're a jerk, Sobre!" Garrett cried. "What in the world was that for? If you wanted to fight, you should have done better than attacking me in your sleep!" The linoone jumped at him with claws drawn, but Aiden came around and barred him from assaulting the disoriented brewer.

"Quit it, brother. You've kicked him in the head - I think you two are even." A rigid frown took over Aiden's face, and he cuffed his brother with a front paw. "Seriously, Garrett, claws out? Thank Arceus I'm here, or I'm fairly sure you would've drawn your knife." Looking down guiltily, Garrett gently nudged the satchel wrapped around him to make sure it was still there. Since they needed to use their mouth to grab anything from the satchel, it had to be in the proper position; or else they could reach in and close their jaws around the blade of the knife, instead of the hilt.

_They're going out gathering? But that's only after the Spring Celebration, and that's the day when..._ Sobrewright gasped and shot up to his feet. "I didn't get any of my cake last night!"

Aiden gave him a look of genuine concern. "Uh... huh?" He agreed slowly, struggling to understand the antsy brewer.

"No, I mean- well, other than that because I really didn't get any - today is the day after the Spring Celebration. You're both going out gathering and I'm going-"

"To the tower," Aiden finished. Sobrewright nodded, not sure what to say. After so much waiting, it was time for him to go. Before the anxiety or anticipation could get to him, however, more important thoughts rushed through his head. Like the axew, who was missing from her normal spot during the winter: snuggled up to Sobrewright in order to keep warm.

"Where's Sprout?"

"Outside, waiting with the mienshao. He helped bring up your bags."

Sobrewright blinked. "Huh?"

At that, both Aiden and Garrett sighed. "No. It's just something you'll have to see for yourself. We were going to wake you earlier, but he said not to. He said you'd want to be nice and awake." They watched one another, waiting for the other to make the first move, to initiate the goodbye. The linoone started to fidget with his satchel, and Sobrewright moved from his small mat and towards the brewing section of his home. He treated it as any normal day; checked the equipment with respectful movements, mentally noted what each batch was for, and wiped away the stray dust on a tiny bookshelf in the back of their burrow.

Once he had ran out of things to do in his morning routine, he went back to staring at Aiden. "Oh, for crying out loud," Garrett groaned, "he's not leaving forever! Watch and learn brother." Jumping forward onto his hind legs, he fell down upon the sandshrew and gave him a hug. Once he was done, Aiden sheepishly came forward and did the same.

"I hope you do well gathering," Sobrewright said.

"I hope you find what you're looking for as well." Aiden dropped and walked to the steps that led out of the burrow. He smiled at Sobrewright, and he returned it in full. The smile melted into a scowl directed at Garrett. "Garrett, come on... put it back."

Sobrewright whipped his head around just in time to see Garrett hastily put back a flask of first-batch ale. "Haha," the linoone laughed, "just a joke." Not one to be fooled twice, Sobrewright made the walk to his open door backwards, keeping the gatherer of stolen ale in sight.

He became so focused on this that he didn't notice himself bump into the tall, wiry mienshao waiting just outside the door. Even thought the night had passed and the performance had finished, the mienshao still looked like something out of a story. As his back pressed into her, she quickly moved out of the way with such elegance it was as if Sobrewright had really bumped into a cloud.

"O-oops," he said nervously. Hopefully he hadn't offended her or put her off with his strange exit. "I'm really s-sorry."

"It's okay," the mienshao said. "Are you about ready to get going, or would you like to eat here?"

Sobrewright's heart missed a beat and his thoughts were thrown askew. _That __voice is so gentle and balanced, _he concluded after a flurry of doubts and hopes, _I've never heard or seen something as graceful as this mienshao. B__ut that is definitely a male's voice. Arceus. _To confirm it, Aiden gave him an awkward nod. "Yes?" He squeaked nervously. He didn't know exactly how rare or odd it was, but he had heard a long time ago that male mienfoo never evolve with sleeves, because they get in the way of combat. Gender determined whether they were known as an amazing fighter or dancer.

"Yes to being ready, or yes to eating here?"

"Yes?" It was all he could manage to say.

The mienshao sighed and wiped his eyes. "Okay, I know that it's surprising. This is my fault. I'll just give you a minute."

"Oh no!" Sobrewright exclaimed. He felt so guilty for reacting this poorly. "I'm so sorry, it's only that I just woke up. I, uh, I think I'm fine on eating later." The truth was that Sobrewright's appetite completely disappeared the moment he saw the mienshao. The administrator personally sent him to retrieve Sobrewright, which meant that it was really happening.

"Brother," a tiny voice said, "maybe you can eat here?" In all of the excitement, he barely noticed Sprout run over to his side. Her sad face nearly broke Sobrewright's heart, and he debated on whether or not she could really be without him. But then she flipped the frown upside down, and gave her brother a stoic smile. "If we don't feed Aiden and Garrett before they leave, Garrett will eat the berries he gathers - like last year."

Aiden nearly barked with laughter. "And the year before that!"

Garrett pushed his brother down to ground and growled. "Whatever, I'm so efficient, I can tax the village whenever I want!" The mienshao watched them get into a small scrap, not sure if he should be entertained or not.

While the two settled their problems, Sobrewright sat down and wrapped an arm around his sister. She looked at him with large, admiring eyes. "Brother, are you going to learn how to be as amazing as Calip? He's so strong. He made your stuff look light as a feather when he lifted it up. And h-he's so nice and calm." The axew pushed herself into Sobrewright and began to sob.

He assumed that was the mienshao's name, and he didn't know how to really respond. "Well, yeah!" Sprout's wails came out in little bounces, in sync with his patting. "Probably not the dancing part, but I'll make sure to come back so much stronger. I'll learn how to make a pendant like this one," he told her as he held up the blue gemstone. "And I'll show you the places I go to."

"Promise to come back and visit every month, like you said you would!"

"I promise, sister. I love you, please don't cry." He consoled her patiently, in no rush to leave her behind.

Once she had quieted down, Sobrewright turn his attention outward to see the others watching him. They stood still in the silence, until Calip smiled and shook his sleeves. "Well," he asked, "what's on the menu?"

* * *

Every step took him closer to the ancient tower. It wasn't even half as tall as the tower in his pendant, but it still intimidated him. So much so that every step also meant that the pressure in his chest welled up until it hurt.

"Remember," Calip told him, "to breathe. You'll be okay, I promise." He adjusted the straps on Sobrewright's bag. It included some mementos of home, gifts from Sally, some books from his collection in the burrow that seemed relevant to exploring, and anything he could think to bring. The mienshao ignored the weight completely.

"So," he said, "What is on the other side of the hill?"

Calip gave him an odd look. "It's only a few hours of a walk from your village. You've really never..." he caught sight of the ominous place and reconsidered asking that question. "Well," he answered instead, "it gets fairly flat after we get to the top. There's room to run, a good-sized pond, and the beach if you a bit further and down some steps carved into the face of the cliff. It will be tons of fun, once the others come later today."

Sobrewright panted and focused on climbing the hill. Thinking about meeting the pokémon from Pokémon Town scared him. _What if they think I'm uneducated, or odd?_ His concentration was suddenly broken by the sound of scuffling. "Calip... did you hear that?"

A large quilava shot out from behind a bush and stood in front of them, eyes wide and curious. He romped through the short vegetation on the sides of the beaten trail and jumped in front of the startled sandshrew.

Instincts kicked in immediately, and they told Sobrewright to roll up into a ball and roll back down the hill. But that only made the quilava want to chase him, and he was startlingly fast. Fast enough to dash in front of the rolling sandshrew and stop him with his paws. He slowly nudged him back up the hill. Even if he wanted to break free of his tight ball, the fear of being attacked kept him locked up tightly. The intrusive pokémon pawed and kicked him around, trying to get him to unravel.

"You can't scare pokémon like that!" Calip cried. "You're a large quilava - jumping out from behind bushes is going to scare the recruits half to death." He seemed to genuinely want Sobrewright to feel comfortable, but he also bet that the mienshao got just as much of a scare. "Come on, seriously, stop hitting him."

"Oops. I am scary. I will note this and make sure not to hide behind the bushes." He nudged the yellow ball again and sniffed it curiously. "Did I hurt him? I hope not."

"No," Calip replied, exasperated. "Almost sent him on a roll all the way back to the village, though."

"That's not good, I think."

Sobrewright knew he had seen the quilava before, and when he finally figured it out he uncurled immediately. "Wait, were you running from the fireworks last night?" He asked curiously. "I saw an orange speck fleeing from them."

The quilava stooped down and scratched his ear. "The fireworks were okay, I guess. But the noise is too much. Overall, I concluded fireworks are bad and also that I cannot fight them, so I ran." Abandoning the subject, he poked his muzzle into Sobrewright's chest and started to sniff. When Sobrewright backed away, the quilava followed until he tripped onto his back.

"What are you doing?!"

"You smell odd."

"_Excuse_ me?"

"Please be patient with him," Calip pleaded. "He's from... a savage village out in the desert. The administrator, well, saved him from being killed. He's very tame, though. He just needs time to accommodate to how things work over here, I promise."

Confused, the savage pokémon stared at the mienshao. _He's __so simple,_ Sobrewright thought angrily, _it takes him a moment to remember his own life._ Once Calip's words had proccessed in full, the quilava nodded. "Oh. Okay. I'm from a very savage village as my brother Calip said. Everything I did in that village was either..." the quilava planted his paws down into the trail firmly. "One: related to things you do in a village." He shoved a paw forward. "Or two: savage. I hope this helps you understand me more." The other paw went out at that, and he concluded his explanation.

For some reason, this somehow enthralled the mienshao instead of embarrassing him. "I don't get it," Sobrewright said, "why did he call you brother?"

A nervous laugh was his answer. "Well, uh, it's just to help him feel at home. You see, uh, you're his brother now too!" It felt as if Calip just relieved himself of an unwanted position, and in turn made Sobrewright dubious. "I'd like you to meet your new brother, Apple. This is Sobrewright." For some reason, 'Apple' didn't sound very much like a name given to savages living in savage villages. "He chose the name, if you're wondering."

Apple scratched his ear again with one of his hind legs. "Sometimes I enjoy apples, but I prefer meat, but Calip prefers for me to say that I prefer apples more, if you understand."

He didn't in the least, nor did he try to. "Yeah," he lied, "I suppose..."

"Also, you're not my brother. Calip is my brother. But I think that your name is entertaining and I find you interesting. And then there is your scent which I will need to be around because I have never smelled this smell. I will follow you around. Overall you're a friend. I'm following you."

Sobrewright felt immediately uncomfortable. "What?"

"That sounds like a great plan!" Calip shouted triumphantly. "Good idea, Apple, great idea! When we get to the tower you can be around your fellow explorers while I take a nap..." Sobrewright opened his mouth to argue, but Calip looked at him with wide, begging eyes. He was asking for a favor. Although he hated the idea, Sobrewright knew it was only fair, for carrying his bags and coming to get him in the first place. He nodded reluctantly.

Calip laughed with relief and skipped off with his bags, towards the tower. "Great, we're all getting along, hooray!"

Not wanting to be without guidance, Sobrewright chased after his gleeful escort. And, as Apple promised, he followed right behind, nearly touching his back. Not only that, the quilava calmly walked on all fours while he ran, making him realize just how slow he was. He slowed to a walk, gently nudged the quilava back.

"A little bit farther behind me, please. Or maybe you could walk by my side?"

"I don't want to be a bother."

The brewer rolled his eyes and walked towards the tower.

_Too late._


End file.
